The Journey
by QueenOfTheEra
Summary: Will hopefully become a series of one shots revolving around moments throughout episodes 1-5 and beyond. (Smut to follow)
1. Chapter 1

Toe tapping and fidgeting with the delicate skirt of her floral dress, Molly Dawes was a nervy sight as her train pulled into Bath Spa. As she stood opposite the train doors, waiting for them to part, Molly caught sight of herself in the glass and almost did a double take.

Stepping off the carriage, careful not to snag her hem with the spikes on the godforsaken contraptions she'd wrestled herself into, Molly found to her surprise and delight that she didn't feel out of place. If anything, she felt better than ever and it wasn't just the stilettos making her walk taller. _Bossman won't know what to make of this, _Molly thought, _and he'd better bloody appreciate it. _

It'd been weeks since she'd seen him, bedded down with wires in Birmingham, forlorn yet still fiery and strong to the core in a way that was so him, _hers_. After swapping details, they'd chatted on the phone, emailed constantly and texted each other incessantly.

Every time Molly saw a new message from the Captain, her face would break out into a smile so big and bright. It wasn't surprising then that her Nan had cottoned on. But just like everyone else, she also easily assumed it was a canny mouthed Welshman that was bringing out the sunshine in her granddaughters eyes. _If only they all knew._

The whole journey down, Molly could barely contain herself. Rereading his messages, she had to hold in a burst of laughter when she came to the one he'd sent her a couple of days previous.

Bossman had been teasing her; he wouldn't let slip his given name. So they'd played a guessing game, where Molly had fired off every poncey, privately educated name she could think of. Henry, William, Percy, Edward and in a moment of sheer desperation, even bloody Cosmo. Captain James had laughed so hard when she'd guessed that one, asking her in a disapproving voice how on earth she could be so cruel. Smiling down the phone, Molly had defensively confessed that she only knew it from watching Bridget Jones. He had laughed heartily and grudgingly divulged that he actually went to Eton with somebody cursed with the unfortunate name, before stating that he'd take great delight in introducing them at his next reunion.

That simple all too easy reference to their future had made her worryingly warm all over. Just him uttering that word, their, made her ridiculously happy. Not that she'd go and admit that to him. Molly had brushed the comment off, telling him he'd have to pay her to go to that toffee nosed hell hole, then adding that it couldn't be that bad if he'd gone there.

It was the way they were it seemed, him making easy references to the future and her trying to shrug it off as if his words didn't affect her. After all, he hardly knew her, she kept telling herself. On tour, they were both in uniform. In Afghan they'd both had a purpose and a duty, but back home things would be different, maybe even awkward.

Wouldn't they?

At the end of the day, he'd gone to school at fucking Eton, whilst she'd barely gone anywhere. Bossman was used to posh ways, been brought up in a posh old house and got used to, Molly was sure, posh women. And her? Well she'd only ever heard the name Cosmo from a romcom.

But even Molly couldn't deny that the chemistry that'd always been present in Afghan was still there. She could tell from his flirting down the phone.

It was obvious that the Captain was eager, and every time they spoke they learned more about each other. They were both taking the time to appreciate the little things; taking advantage of the fact that they didn't have to wait out anymore.

Molly was pretty sure he was as anxious as she was. It wasn't a bad anxious, not like when she'd first spoken to him after he'd come round in hospital. No. Not like that.

They hadn't spoken about their first, and so far only, kiss they'd shared. Although, Molly was sure that it was to be the first of many. Just thinking of it made her ache. _Jesus_. Molly had most definitely replayed it over and over, and more than a couple of times she'd felt her cheeks flush bright through the remnants of her Afghan induced tan and sometimes if she fought hard enough against the terrors that teased her mind, she swore she could feel his strong hands cradling her face ever so gently.

Laying in her bunk night after night, whispers of the moment they'd shared were the only thing keeping her from going absolutely barmy - what with all the thoughts that had her mind running away with itself. The echoes of Bashira's sweet, searching voice being muffled and then silenced by the sharp shock of gunfire. Many a night Molly often slammed open her eyes to the deadly sound that reverberated round and round her head, trying to beckon dreams of Captain James; clinging to her only shred of comfort.

But now, walking through the pretty streets of the most perfect place she'd ever seen, Molly felt a different nervousness from the gut wrenching knots that kept her awake. This time, she admitted to herself whilst unwillingly giving into a girlish sigh, the only thing turning her stomach were the swarms of butterflies that just wouldn't stay put. _Bossman butterflies_ she thought, resisting the urge to roll her carefully made up eyes.

All of their conversations had possessed an undertone, and she wasn't surprised in the least when he'd invited her down to Bath so soon. They both needed to see each other badly. Captain James had asked her out for dinner, she'd saved the address on her phone and practically memorised the route. She just knew it'd be someplace fancy knowing him.

Molly could hardly believe it, smiling to herself in more than a bit of disbelief. Here she was in bloody Bath, with Bossman taking her to dinner. Surreal didn't cover it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer! These characters aren't mine, though I wish CJames was! ;)**

Mellow morning light streamed through the tall windows, landing on the smiling curves of her face.

She burrowed deeper into the planes of his chest, images and sounds from last night drifting in and out of her mind, dancing behind her eyelids.

He'd taken her with a tenderness that she'd thought of as fiction before. It had been steady and romantic and everything she'd never known and hoped to always have from now on. The fumbling, straight to the point boys that she'd been with prior hadn't a patch on him.

His honeyed tones had triggered her release. She'd come hard with his voice in her ear, telling her how much he loved her, how he had imagined this for so long. _Too long._

And after he stilled moments later, Molly had held onto him so tight, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes as he stroked back her damp hair, kissing her forehead reverently. Happy tears born from the realisation that he was alive and strong and here with her, flesh and bone.

Shifting, halfway between blissful sleep and consciousness, Molly revelled in the slight soreness from where his hands had gripped, pushed and pulled the second time.

_The second time_. Molly had to hold back a moan at the memory.

It had been fast and rough and tempered by a need to never let go. Whilst he had taken the lead the first time, by the second Molly was bolder, scraping her nails down his taut back, forcing him to thrust harder and deeper with every swift stroke, her insistent hands travelling of their own mind to encourage his firm backside from where she writhed beneath him.

Guiding him, showing him she wouldn't break, she'd come quickly. Her head tossed back, digging into the pillow with his demanding mouth clamped onto the soft slope where her neck and shoulder met, muffling the sound of her name spilling from his lips in hoarse, satisfied moans as he joined her ascent.

_How the hell had it all happened?_ Things like this didn't happen to girls like her.

She had been joking when she'd suggested that she thought she'd be waking up in a Travelodge. Bossman…no, _Charles_, didn't exactly seem like the type for a quick fumble in a budget hotel.

But, if it had turned out that way, she wouldn't have had much reason to be disappointed; her previous dealings had done little to develop high expectations when it came to being wined and dined. A trip to the chippy on Long Lane after a pint in the pub was more like it.

"What's put that smile on your face then?"

Keeping her eyes shut, Molly smiled wider. She'd heard Boss' voice in many settings. She'd heard it when he was tenderly telling her how he felt in Afghan, angrily instructing her away from an explosive riddled Bashira, or authoritatively ordering around the boys at Bastion.

But by far, his husky morning timbre beat them all by an absolute mile. _Definitely_.

Her head turned up from where it lay upon his humming heart, the steady rhythm that had lulled her to sleep in the small hours. It was the first good night she'd had in ages.

Opening bleary eyes, Molly was met with his knowing grin.

"Oh, nothing," she smirked bashfully in reply. The way he was studying her face made her want to do nothing more than bask in this feeling every morning.

If she wasn't so head over heels for him, she could've hit herself for being so fucking sappy.

Charles' eyes possessed a playful glint, roaming over her cheeky face. She looked satisfied, he thought to himself happily, not even bothering to disguise his smugness.

"Excuse me, less of the bloody smirk….Charles," Molly teased, her Cockney accent taking on a haughty tone as it wrapped itself around the new name.

He picked up his arm from where it lay snug round her shoulders and deftly tucked her hair behind her ear. Smiling, he leaned down, rubbing his nose alongside hers.

The simple action elicited a soft sigh from her lips, still swollen and cherry red from before.

"I'm really happy, you know," she murmured, lowering her chin to his chest.

"Ditto," he winked, sliding further down the pillows and taking her in his arms.

**Thank you for reading and for all your faves, reviews and follows! This is my first stab at writing anything remotely creative in a few years (too many uni essays) so I really appreciate any feedback! I know this was short but more to come soon! XO **


	3. Chapter 3

The cup that held the coffee was delicate and decorated with a pretty print. Not anything like the plain, made for purpose mugs they used at home, ones that were used to being slammed down, knocked about and chipped. _No._

Her fingers had to curve into the well-crafted slope of the handle and it felt a bit unnatural. But it was nice, she had to admit, the feel of her fingers resting against the porcelain's dewy glaze.

It was the little things.

The fact that the shirt she was wearing-his shirt- had a little label with a load of gibberish on it. Italian he'd told her, as if reading her mind. _Italian._ And although she couldn't make much sense of it, she'd bet anything it didn't read non-crease or easy iron.

The fact that the house he grew up in had its own staircase and a bloody grand one at that. It wound itself up multiple flights, not including the basement and the attic that the Boss said he'd show her some time.

The fact that his bed was big enough for her whole family to kip in. Or for him to roll her around any which way he wanted. Not a bunk bed just snug enough for one.

It was different, Molly decided. But it didn't seem to matter- wasn't a big fucking elephant in the room. Not with him. The differences just melted away.

It was just…_easy._

Today he was going to give her the grand tour, so he said. _Bloody grand indeed_ she'd thought when he'd announced his plans for the day and handed her a cup of Rosabaya.

Molly looked towards the nightstand. From her place on the edge of the bed, she could easily see the fluorescent flash of her phone screen, signalling she'd got a new text.

10.25am. Mum.

Molly had quickly messaged her last night, telling her not to worry and that she was staying with a friend.

The response had been almost instant, instructing her to be safe and to have a good time.

Pulling up the new message, Molly sighed.

'Just checking you're alright Love. Say Hello to Smurf.'

If that wasn't enough, her Mum had punctuated the assumption with a wink.

_A bloody wink. _

"What's the sigh for?"

Turning, Molly saw that Charles was off the phone and leaning on the doorframe like he owned the place. Technically, he did. _Nice place too._

"Just Mum."

He sent her a small smile. She'd looked beautiful against the backdrop of the desert, but nothing beat the way she looked this morning. Rumpled yet refreshed, at home in his bed.

"She wondering where you are?" He didn't know many details about her family, but it was clear she was close with her Mum.

Molly didn't want to bring up that her Mum thought she was holed up somewhere with Smurf; she wanted to preserve the moment and keep it for herself. Just easiness. Just the two of them enjoying each other. _No drama._

"Yeah. Probably worried I've sacked in the army to become a brass," she shot back, deflecting.

Charles laughed, bright eyes shining and Molly unfolded her limbs. She made her way towards him. Magnetic, that's what he was. _Chemistry without a doubt._

She stood in front of him now, one hand grasping the cup, careful not to drop it on the cream carpet. _God forbid. _Her other hand rested comfortably over his shirt, fingers playing with the buttons, soldiers lined up in a perfect row.

"You never know," Molly looked up at the teasing lilt of his voice. "You could probably charge more, what with your Military Cross."

And then he had the cheek to wink. _Smug prick._

The buttons protested weakly against her palm.

"Excuse me! Less of the hitting, please." The Captain didn't flinch, not one bit.

"Well I can hardly kick a bleedin' invalid, now can I?"

His head was slanted back, eyes tucking in tenderly at the edges. Molly completely loved that sound. His laugh, all carefree and relaxed.

Dropping his chin down and raising his eyes, Charles smirked and her breath caught. She'd have to get that under control she decided. His arsenal of expressions seemed to be making her more breathless than the Afghan heat.

"No," he murmured lowly whilst cajoling a strand of her hair round his finger, eyes roving her face. "But you didn't mind practically paralysing me last night."

Swallowing, Molly held onto the mug tighter, restraining herself. She'd have to tie her hands down, what with all the things they wanted to do, places they wanted to wander.

"I think you've got things muddled. Any after effects from last night would be self inflicted."

"Is that right, Molly?"

He leaned down, giving her a short, fleeting kiss – eyes open and intimate.

"Who's the medic here?" she teased as he pulled away. Her brow raised in mock strop.

"Well," Charles said whilst curving an arm round her, fisting his hand into the fabric of his shirt that hugged her waist. "I guess I'll just have to kidnap you, keep you here to nurse me back to health. Since you're such a good medic."

Giggling (a foreign sound she seemed to be making a lot around him) and warmed all over by his attention, Molly raised her eyes and smiled up at him cheekily. An imp in her Captain's clothing. Her dimple flashed under the raised apple of her cheek.

"Guess so, Sir."

**Another shortish filler, more plot to come by the end of the week! Thanks again for all the views, follows, faves and the lovely feedback! xo**


End file.
